By the beginning of October Peggy had quite settled down in her new home, and had established her right to be Arthur Saville's sister by convulsing the quiet household with her tricks and capers. She was affectionate, obedient, and strictly truthful; her prim little face, grandiose expressions, and merry ways, made her a favourite with everyone in the house, from the Vicar, who loved to converse with her in language even more high-flown than her own, to the old, north-country cook, who confided in the housemaid that she "fair-ly did love that little thing," and manœuvred to have apple charlotte for dinner as often as possible, because the "little thing" had praised her prowess in that direction, and commended the charlotte as a "delicious confection." Mrs. Asplin was specially tender over the girl who had been left in her charge, and in return, Peggy was all that was sweet and affectionate; vowed that she could never do enough to repay such kindness, and immediately fell into a fresh pickle, and half frightened the life out of her companions by her hairbreadth escapes. Her careless, happy-go-lucky ways seemed all the more curious because of the almost Quaker-like neatness of her appearance. Mellicent was often untidy, and even Esther had moments of dishevelment, but Peggy was a dainty little person, whose hair was always smooth, whose dress well brushed and natty. Her artistic sense was too keen to allow of any shortcoming in this respect, but she seemed blessed with a capacity of acting before she thought, which had many disastrous consequences. She was by no means a robust girl, and Mrs. Asplin fussed over her little ailments like an old mother hen with a delicate nursling. One prescription after another was unearthed for her benefit, until the washstand in her room looked like a small chemist's shop. An array of doctor's tinctures, gargles and tonics stood on one side, while on the other were a number of home-made concoctions in disused wine bottles, such as a paregoric cough-mixture, a hair wash, and a cooling draught to be taken the first thing in the morning, which last pretended to be lemonade, but in reality contained a number of medicinal powders. "Take it up tenderly, treat it with care!" was Peggy's motto with respect to this last medicine, for she had discovered that by judicious handling, it was possible to enjoy a really tasty beverage, and to leave the sediment untouched at the bottom of the bottle!